Page 61 of Disavowed

He hadn’t known that until after he’d kissed her. In fact, he hadn’t had a single coherent thought for several minutes afterward. He’d remained in her office not only to let his supremely painful boner come to heel but to process what had just happened.

Stupid didn’t begin to describe what he’d set in motion. He’d been an idiot to think he could distance himself from her when his body craved her so badly. But there was far more to it than the promise of amazing sex, and that’s what scared the shit out of him.

Sparring with Daisy, teasing her until she got so hot and bothered it made her cheeks flush with heat, were all things he liked about her. And she was kind. He’d seen that firsthand today as she’d interacted with those two little girls. Not for the first time, he found himself thinking what a great mother she’d be. As he’d watched her help them pick out flowers he’d felt a discernible squeeze in his chest. She had a warm, maternal nature that people were inexorably drawn to. Including him.

No matter how much he tried to fight it, every minute he spent with her she got deeper under his skin, and he was coming to—

Coming to what?

He shoved the keys into the ignition and stared out the windshield, not knowing how to finish his sentence, except to say that he cared for Daisy more than he should. When she was in pain, he felt it, too. As she’d watched the girls leave the shop he’d seen the wistful look in her eyes. There was something eating away at her. Most people didn’t see it, but he did.

He started the van and headed back into Manhattan. Keeping his personal shit about Daisy separate from the job was proving to be more of a struggle than he’d ever anticipated. But right now she was part of the job, and protecting her was always at the forefront of his mind. Protecting her physically was the easy part. Healing whatever emotional wounds she was obviously suffering from was the real challenge, and he did want to help her. If only he knew how.

Slowing for traffic, he remembered how upset she’d been right before he’d walked into her office. She’d been staring at her calendar. Most people didn’t get teary-eyed by a calendar so he’d looked at it and seen it was her birthday. Earlier, Jack had denied having plans with her tonight, so was she really staying at home alone?

At the next stoplight, he noticed a jewelry store, and adjacent to that, a bakery, both on the other side of the intersection. When the light turned green he hesitated until the car behind him honked. As soon as he hit the gas his cell phone rang. It was Gray. He pulled over and double-parked in front of the jewelry store.

“What’s up?” he said, watching a couple looking through the store window.

“Could be nothing,” Gray said. “Jimmy Gonzalez didn’t check in today.”

Dom drew his brows together. “Is this the first time he’s missed a call?”

“Yeah. We think he’s still in the Bahamas, but to play it safe I told his handler to get the Royal Bahamas Police to verify he’s still at the apartment.”

“Keep me posted and let me know if he misses his next check-in.”

Dom ended the call and began massaging his chin. He wasn’t really worried that Gonzalez had missed a call. Even though it was part of his agreement with the NYPD, it didn’t surprise him. The guy would probably check in tomorrow, hung over as a fried turd.

After stuffing the phone back into his pocket, he stared once again at the bakery and jewelry store. The crazy-ass thing he was pondering was a hundred miles outside his comfort zone and a really, really stupid idea. Sure, he’d gotten a woman a cake before, but never in his life had he purchased jewelry for one. Jewelry was too personal, and he’d never wanted to mislead a woman into thinking she meant more to him than she did.

Hell, he’d never even bought jewelry for Anika, although that was because she would have chewed his ass out for wasting money that could have been spent on medical supplies that were scarce in war-torn Afghanistan. But this wasn’t the Middle East, and this wasn’t Anika. This was Daisy, and she was hurting.

Yesterday, when he’d overheard her talking to Alex on the phone about Alex’s pregnancy, there’d been genuine joy in her voice, but afterward there’d been sadness. Today he’d seen it again. Something was very, very wrong, and he was beginning to suspect that beneath her bubbly, fiery exterior was a woman in serious pain.

He shut off the engine and tapped the steering wheel with his fingers. Hiding one’s pain was something he was achingly familiar with. When Anika died he hadn’t told his family. The only thing they knew was that he’d been seeing someone in Afghanistan, but he’d never divulged the true depths of that love. Or that Anika was murdered. Instead, he’d chosen to conceal his pain, and when it came to women—he slept around.

Bottom line was that he hadn’t wanted anyone’s pity, so it was easier to keep everything tucked safely away in his own personal space. Didn’t take a shrink to see that Daisy was doing the same thing, and he wanted to know why. More to the point, he wanted to help her with whatever was eating her up inside. Not that he was anyone to give advice, but he could at least relate to her need to clamp off feelings and hide them away.

Cursing himself for being a sap, he got out of the van.

Forty minutes later, he parked in front of the floral shop. Along the way, he checked email on his cell phone. No new messages. Damn, but he’d hoped to get something new from his D.C. contact.

As he approached the shop’s front door, he noted the large delivery truck wasn’t parked outside, which meant Jack hadn’t returned from the Piazza. A sliver of suspicion crept up his spine that Jack was doing something at the hotel besides delivering centerpieces.

He entered the shop and was greeted by Daisy sitting at the front counter. Marjie usually worked the counter but was nowhere to be seen.

“How’d it go today?” Daisy looked up from de-thorning roses with a small knife.

“An old woman grabbed my ass.”

She snorted. “Did you enjoy it?”

Dom chuckled. “Dunno if I’d say that, but she was clearly an experienced ass-grabber. Her finesse was impressive.” He leaned his hip against the counter, admiring the skill and speed with which Daisy sliced the sharp thorns from the flower stalks.

She plunked the rose she’d been working on back into the silver bucket and grabbed another one. “It’s a fine motor skill Mrs. Abernathy’s been honing for decades.”

“You knew?” He raised his brows. “And you sent me out there unprotected, to be mauled?”